adulation, piety & zeal
My memory served me correctly a fox-pounce on snow. I saw him jump high to tunnel a mouse - humming a four letter word to drown herself into a minute carrion, to freeze a shallow grave, but instead became a meal. (the first of at least 27). As I watched, I carved a keyhole into a walnut and pretended it was my heart - whistled keys at the same time. aeyes squint, reached my bow and plucked a string upward. I can do the math in my head, but it's all wrong, usually, so I double checked and still felt right about the angles. but who fucking knows. I'm a scientist, and when it comes to arrows, I know exactly where they pierce - through valves, ventricals, and vein. After the gasp, I decided to name the daughter that I didn't have Vena Cava, the inferior. Lost in a world of white, a field I'd ran since I was ten, and a place I haven't been since exactly then. Intent on his hunt, I envied persistence - the love of chase, smell of fur, clutch of it teethwise until gorged on mammal. When you think of it, we're all animals. My heart burst, a perfect pattern on the long blades of grass. after I coughed a soft lung, I had only half a breath left, and I was glad that your name had exactly one syllable, because that's all I have in me.